Operation: The Switch
by Rae Moore
Summary: Quinn's twin, Charlie, asks her to pretend to be him for his and his fiancés anniversary. Faberry. G!P Quinn. This fic was originally posted under my old account The Official Ninja.
1. Chapter 1

**Moore Info: Disclaimer; Ryan Murphy and Fox own Glee and it's characters. I do not. However, I do own any original characters used in this story. **

**- I wrote this fic when I was just baby Rae. I barely knew what the hell I was doing when I wrote as The Official Ninja; so I just stopped, and when I felt I had grown enough I started writing again as Rae Moore. **

**- I decided to edit and move the two fics from my old account to this one when I felt I could go back to updating it, which I will try to do one of these days. **

**- If you've read this before, there are a few changes made. **

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**Chapter One**

The weekend was Quinn's favorite out of the whole seven days. What made it even better was that she had Fridays off, making it an epic three day weekend for her.

She didn't have to worry about waking up at five in the morning to make that two hour drive to her job in the city before traffic set in. No, during the weekend it was Quinn time; a time where she got to sleep in, wear her favorite raggedy sweats, and pig out on her comfortable couch while having a non-stop _Call Of Duty_ marathon.

Yep, Quinn time was the best time and she wished it were Quinn time all the time. So when her twin brother Charlie interrupted her Quinn time, she was more than pissed to say the least.

Her brother was a talent scout for Island records. He went all over the nation to find the next Rihanna or Justin Bieber. He was _so_ driven to be the best –to discover the best– that he would often put his fiancé of two (almost three) years, who also happened to be s Multi-Tony and Grammy winning artist, on the back burner.

It wasn't uncommon for him to forget important milestones in their relationship, like their anniversary for example.

Which brought Quinn to her current predicament.

"You want me to what!" Quinn yelled into her iPhone, almost choking on the Cheeto that was now stuck to her bottom lip. She always knew her brother was kind of douchey, but this was a new low even for him.

She wasn't sure how to take it.

"Please Quinn! It will only be for a few days. After that, you can leave and never have to see her until the wedding." Charlie Fabray begged his sister. He needed her to agree to this or he'd loose a great artist for the label.

_There's no way in hell I'm staying as a low-level talent scout. This could be my big break. _He thought with a strong grip to his phone.

"Charlie, we're not talking about me just flying to New York in order to keep your fiancé company while you go off and discover the world; but you actually have the _balls_ to suggest I do some _Zack and Cody shit! _And pretend to be _you_ just so _I_ can take _your girlfriend_ out –on not just some stroll into the city, but you _actually_ want _me_ to take her out on your ANNIVERSARY!

"I mean, what kind of _fucked up shit_ is that." Quinn yelled again as she stood up from her couch, dropping the puffed Cheetos that were in her lap and onto the floor, her game of Call of Duty forgotten. How could her brother suggest such a thing? Better yet, how could he do this to Rachel?

Sure she's never met the woman, but no one deserved to be lied to like Charlie was planning to do.

"Yeah. Yeah. I know it sounds bad, but I've got this girl down here in Houston –amazing pipes I'm telling you Quinn! I need her to sign, but the girl wont budge. If I pass this opportunity up, I'll never forgive myself. And I f you don't do this for me, Rachel will leave me. She said so herself." Charlie said, throwing in that last sentence in order to reel in some sympathy points.

_Besides, there will be other anniversaries. I don't see why this even has to be a problem. _Charlie thought.

"You owe me one anyways, Quinn. You do this for me and I wont ask you for anything else." _Well that's a lie, but what she doesn't know, wont hurt her._

Quinn gave a reluctant sigh as she considered her brothers words. As much as she hated to admit it; she did owe him. That was something he was always quick to remind her of.

Her and Charlie have always been different –much to her parents dismay– but they were the same when it came to one thing, their anatomy…well, kind of. She was born with a fully functioning penis, and for the first thirteen years of her life, she was Quinn, twin son of Russell and Judy Fabray. No one knew that she was a girl until she hit puberty, when she unexplainably started to grow breast.

To say everyone in the Fabray family was surprised was a total understatement; it was a damn near apocalypse.

While Charlie thought it was cool that he got to be big brother (even though Quinn was the oldest by three minuets) to his new sister, their parents thought otherwise. Her father even went as far as to suggest they sign Quinn up for surgery to make her a boy for good, thankfully but her mother stopped Russell from delving further into that idea.

Quinn has never been more grateful to her mother than at that moment.

So, Judy and Russell decided on the next best thing; they moved them and their kids to Lima Ohio –the middle of fucking no where. Once they settled into Lima, her parents began to treat her differently. They never really acknowledge her unless there were other high class families present. And when those same families, they were always quick to remind her how much of an abomination she was.

If it hadn't been for her brother she most likely would have killed herself while in her teens; she was sure of it. But alas, he somehow convinced her not to, leaving her to go through out each day still very much alive and still very much depressed.

The only thing that seemed to numb everything at the time was Fight Clubs and alcohol. They had been the perfect solution to her problems –or so she had thought.

Shortly after they moved to Lima, Quinn met Lima's resident badass (his words) Noah Puckerman, who quickly became her best friend. Puck had been a bad influence on her and she knew it from the start. He was the type of person her father complained about, and the kind her mother gossiped about with her church group.

Puck's father had ran off with some one eyed hooker the summer before Quinn and her family had arrived, leaving him to take care of his pregnant mother at fifteen. He didn't have much money, but what he did get he got from placing bets on caged fights. And then, later on, competing in the fights himself in which he quickly pulled Quinn into, marking the start of her illegal career as Quinn 'the Jaguar' Fabray.

She had loved every second of it.

The rush of adrenaline that would flow through her body while trying to duck and dodge quick and wild hands, or kicks, made her feel alive...but would almost cost her life.

"Quinn? You still there?" Charlie asked as he impatiently checked his Rolex for the time. He had a flight to Houston to catch and this was taking longer than he thought.

Quinn, who had been lost in her memories, had momentarily forgotten she was on the phone with her brother. She blinked back to reality.

"Huh? Oh, yeah I'm still here." Quinn said lowly into the phone, looking over and at her flat screen, in which was mounted on her wall, to see her avatar get shot in the head.

_Damn Chinese kid! Doesn't he have better things to do than to constantly quick scope me in the head? _With a renewed sense of duty, Quinn plopped back onto her couch and jumped back into the game, only one insurgent in mind.

"So you'll do it right? You'll pretend to be me and save my relationship?" Charlie asked with false hopefulness in his voice as he made his way through the crowded airport. At this point he really didn't care if she said yes or no. He was only with the brunette because of the money and fame she had recently acquired. And it didn't hurt that being with her made him look good to his bosses.

_Besides, if I play my cards right I'll be landing me a southern bell. _He thought with a smirk.

"Yeah, whatever." Quinn answered after a long, exaggerated sigh. As soon as those words left her mouth, regret entered her. But as fast as it came, it went. _Ha! I got your ass now kid! A headshot _and _I stole your fucking flag!_

"Yes! Thanks Quinn, you're really saving my ass with this one!" Charlie told Quinn as he finally approached his gate.

"Yeah, yeah." she replied with distracted tone, her eyes glued to her video game.

"Look , Quinn. My flight was just called so I've got to go, but I'll have Tina take care of your ticket to New York. Rachel wont be there until Monday night –she said something about a gay parade with her makeup artist or something, but you should be able to have the house to yourself for a little while until she shows up." He rushed out.

"Listen, I really need to go now. Call Tina if you need anything, OK? Bye!" He hung up, the dial tone promptly taking his place.

_Why do I keep letting him do this to me?_ Quinn asked herself with a heavy sigh as she continued to play her game.

_**Because you owe him.**_ Her inner Quinn replied.

_Yes, but when will I finally pay all of my debt to him_?

_**He did say this would be the last time.**_

_But this is Charlie we're talking about. There won't be a last time._ With another sigh, Quinn turned off her phone and tossed it towards the other end of her couch. _I'll be damned if another person interrupts Quinn time for some stupid shit._ And with that, Quinn returned all of her focus back to the intense game of capture the flag. _AsianInvasion625, I'm coming for your ass!_

_**...**_

It was three in the morning when Quinn finally decided to call it quits in her epic Call of Duty marathon. She was tired and needed some sleep in order to recharge all the energy it took to hand AsianInvasion625's ass to him.

_Ha! He didn't even know what hit him_. Quinn thought with a big yawn.

This was her life and what she looked forward to when Fridays came rolling around.

She had a crappy job of driving arrogant ass people (who reminded her too much of her parents) around in limos. Majority of the people she drove all seemed to think that just because she drove them around, that she was also to be their hired slave. They had her do things that didn't even relate to driving, like; holding shopping bags while they shopped, or siting parked in some mansions driveway with their bad ass kids while they cheated on their spouse just inside. Now, normally she liked kids, but not if they almost cause a high speed chase with the cops.

Even so, she sucked it up and endured the heavy bags of shoes, and the nasty, germ ridden snot that caused her way too many colds, only for the extra cash that came her way.

_Yeah, so I can spend it on the latest kick ass game!_

Quinn stood up from the couch with a back popping stretch before walking over to her baby –her PS4– and turning her off before lazily walking towards her bedroom.

Remembering that she was supposed to receive an email from Charlie's assistant, she decided to check her inbox before heading to bed. After scrolling through spam mail that claimed to make her penis larger (not that she needed it), she finally found the email she'd been expecting.

**Quinn,**

**Your plane leaves at Noon, Monday evening. Once you land, a town car will be waiting for you to take you to their house. And no, you can't get out of it. **

**Clothes won't be necessary as Charlie has decided to grant you access to his closet. He wants you to look and act as close to him as possible, so don't fuck this up –his words to you. **

**If you have any questions regarding your assignment, please do not hesitate to call or text me. **

**Good luck.**

**Tina Cohen-Chang**

_Jeeze, Tina makes it sound like I'm on a damn mission. The only thing that was missing was a weapons report and the words, 'Be safe Agent Fabray...and try not to go in guns blazing this time, won't you?'_

Quinn sighed as she turned off her laptop before diving into her queen sized bed with a flop.

That email made the whole situation that much more real.

She'd like to think that out of her whole family, she was the more human one with all the mistakes she's made. But this whole Opertion: The Switch thing was starting to make her feel kind of shitty.

However, even so, she was going to continue on. After all, she owed it to her little big brother with all the shit he covered and did for he. Without him she'd probably be in a jail somewhere, and if not that, dead.

Charlie helped her back onto her feet after she finished running away from her problems, and for that she would be forever grateful to him, but how many times did he really expect her to repay her debt? She was starting to get tired of it all.

**...**

Rachel has been in San Francisco for a week with her best friend Kurt for the Pride parade he had all but begged her to attend. She didn't mind so much, after all both of her parents were gay men, but she really did wonder how many Pride parades she'd end up attending in her life time.

Toady was the last full day she would spend in California before she was to board a plane for New York, with Tuesday being her and her fiancé's three year anniversary.

On their first anniversary, her boyfriend had forgotten about it all together, leaving her to dine alone in a elegant restaurant and looking completely stupid as the waitress assigned to her table continued to ask if she were ready to order. After that night, she had been pissed; even going a whole two months without answering any of his phone calls or text messages because of it.

It wasn't until after he showed up at her house in the pouring rain to sing horribly to some love song he played from his car before asking her to marry him (without getting down on one knee, but she decided to over look that) did she forgive him in the form of accepting his proposal, despite the small feeling of wrongness she had felt upon doing so.

But for the past year and a half, he's been even more absent from her life, leaving her to celebrate every award win with her friends while he only sent her a congratulatory bouquet of flowers, along with a card that had no other personal message than 'good job' and 'sorry I couldn't make it.' Instead, he chose to chase after the future talent of tomorrow rather than her love, and she was about fed up with him constantly choosing his job over her.

This was his last chance.

Before leaving for San Francisco, Charlie had once again tried to get out of their anniversary, claiming that he was on the verge of discovering some artist who was supposed to be the next Amy Winehouse. Rachel didn't really care about the artist, because as of right now she only cared to know if her boyfriend still cared about their pending marriage.

However, even so, she still allowed him to leave on his trip to Houston just last weeks, but not without an ultimatum; he had to be back before she came home Monday night or else she'd leave him without shedding a single tear...Ok, she'd maybe dry-heave a little while she fanned at her watery eyes, but that was all she was affording him!

"Rachel, honey? Are you ready?" Kurt asked Rachel as he diligently tried to fix his already perfect hair while looking into the floor to ceiling mirror that was in Rachel's upgraded hotel room.

_You never know who a boy might meet_. He thought with a flirty wink to himself.

Finally satisfied with his impeccable hair, he turned toward the unresponsive brunette to see the woman sitting on the edge of the bed, fidgeting with her engagement ring while and lost in deep thought.

He hated seeing his best friend like this. He wished she would just leave her douche bag of a fiancé without so much as an explanation. But with Rachel being Rachel, she was all about forgiveness and second chances –which he himself had benefited from, _however her bastard boyfriend had a chance too many_. Kurt thought as he sat himself down beside Rachel, who finally acknowledge him when she felt the bed shift.

"You know, if you would just leave him you wouldn't have to feel this way." he told her gently, placing his hands on top of Rachel's, stopping her fidgety hands.

"Kurt, we spoke of this. And besides, I doubt he'll even be there when I get back. He loves his job more than me after all, but I just have to see if he for once put me first. It couldn't hurt right?" Rachel asked Kurt with pleading eyes, wanting her friend to understand.

Kurt had always hated the guy ever since he met him. He didn't know what it was that made him instantly dislike the guy, whom at the time appeared to be charming, but a little voice in the back of his head told him not to trust Charlie Fabray –and so he didn't.

It was times like these that he really whished that Charlie would open his weasel like eyes and see the greatest woman he'd ever have in his pathetic little life. But seeing how things were going with those twos relationship, he'd be shocked as hell if the man was actually there when they got back tomorrow.

It was why he had his roommate Mercedes go out and prepare the Rachel edition of their trusted Depressed Divas Kit for when they flew back. The Kit consisted of a ton of Vegan ice cream, cheetah print sunggies, and the watching of Funny Girl, the Notebook, and Pretty woman well into the night.

_Maybe she'll let us pick the movies this time? _Kurt thought hopefully. There was only so much of Pretty Woman he could watch, and that was coming from a gay man.

"Come on Rach, let's go before we miss your favorite; Dikes on Bikes." Kurt teased as he excitedly hopped off the bed, trying to bring the spirit of Pride back into the room.

"Actually Kurt, my favorite are the ever fierce drag Queens, thank you very much." Rachel said with a smile on her face.

"Well then, we mustn't keep the royals waiting. Shall we?" Kurt asked, his bent elbow stuck out in waiting for Rachel, who quickly likened arms with her , in her opinion, gay husband.

_I can do this. _Rachel thought. _This day is supposed to be filled with fun, not with thoughts of Charlie_.

"We shall, Kurt. We shall." And with that, they both skipped merrily out of Rachel's hotel room and down the hall while singing I'm Coming Out at the top of their lungs as they passed laughing couples, who were also on their way to pride.

_I can do this._

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**Moore Info: Will be posting the other four chapters once they are edited.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Moore Info: surprised the hell out of some of you, didn't I?**

**- if you've read this before, there are quite a few things added to this chapter. Couldn't help myself.**

**- had to repost cause some PM'd that an alert did not go out. **

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**Chapter Two**

_I can't do this._

Quinn thought as she paced in front of an old woman while waiting for their plane that would fly them to New York. One hand was running through her unruly hair and the other was scratching at the tight bindings that were wrapped around her breasts to make her chest look more mainly, which really didn't take much; her boobs were already small.

_I mean, who deserves to be lied to like this? No one! That's who! Oh my eight pound baby Jesus, what if she finds us out? We'd be screwed and Charlie would be without a wife! _

_**OK. OK. Just calm down Quinn. You're freaking that old lady out, and I'm pretty sure that Paul Blart over there is thinking we're some kind of terrorist. Just calm down. Deep, slow breaths. That's it. Now how about a charming smile to that old lady? There's no telling when the last time she got lai-.**_

"Is everything alright, sir?" One of the airport managers asked Quinn, knocking her out of her thoughts. The suspicious security guard, who really did resemble Paul Blart, was standing just a few feet behind him, glaring at Quinn as he talked into the walkie-talkie that was attached to his shoulder.

_Aw Shit! _

_**Quick! Say something!**_

"Yes, are you alright?" Quinn asked the manager coolly, her chin slightly tilted into the air in a dignified manner, sounding as if she were made of money when she really looked like a bum.

_**That's right Quinn, play it cool.**_

_This would be sooo much easier if we had a monocle. _

_**And a top hat. **_

_And a beard we could stroke. _

_**And a cane. **_

_And a–_

"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to come with us." The manager said after squinting his eyes at Quinn for a few still moments before motioning to Paul Blart behind him. The security guard happily took a hold of a shocked Quinn's elbow, and roughly began to pull her along after the manager.

"What is the meaning of this!? I've done nothing wrong!" Quinn yelled out in protest as she easily ripped herself from the guards grip, thanks to her Fight Club days. This immediately pissed the guard off as he quickly called for back up.

"Sir! I'm going to need you to calm down and come with us. We only want to ask you a few questions." The manager told Quinn, his voice tense as he held placating hands out in the blondes direction as if she were a rabid dog ready to strike at any moment.

"What the hell for!? I've done nothing wrong!" Quinn repeated as now two guards attempted to grab at her. However, she quickly avoided their clumsy hands, causing both men to bonk heads and angering them even more.

_What the fuck are these peoples problems? _

_**They think we're terrorists! **_

_What the heck? The only thing we terrorize or the little kids who troll COD! _

"Fellas! I think he has a bomb in his suitcase! He was sweating bullets and scratching at his chest like he's got another one strapped to it!" The old lady from before yelled out to the guards, pointing at both Quinn and her travel bag.

_**Shit! See? They're gonna water board us now! Oh lawd help us! We can't even swim! I highly doubt they'll provide us with floaties!**_

_That old bitch!_

_**Run, Quinny, Run!**_

Quinn immediately took off running.

There wasn't much anyone could really do when someone accused you of having a bomb while in any airport in America. Soon after her taking off, a small chase around the airport, that involved golf karts and fat security guards yelling into their shoulder talkies, ensued. It wasn't until Paul Blart rolled up on his Segway and shot a taser directly at her butt hole did she go down, a team of security guards quickly piling on top of her twitching body as she went.

**...**

After being held up and interrogated for over three hours –sans the water boarding her active imagination had come up with– Quinn was finally able leave with a sarcastic 'have a nice day' and her favorite security guard, Paul Blart, escorting her out of the airport. Her butt hole was still tender from the tazing, and from the spreading it had endured by a (upon seeing her tits and penis) shocked female guard who had searched _all up in there_ for something they never found.

She didn't give a fuck what he did. Charlie owed her a freaking paid vacation to Hawaii after that shit.

_Dammit!_

Quinn screamed in her head as she gave her travel bag –which had been thoroughly riffled through by good ol' Pauly– a good kick before sitting down on it with a heavy plop, immediately regretting her actions with a wince as shifted her bottom uncomfortably. She was pretty sure she knew a bit what anal felt like after all that, and she couldn't help but give props to all the gay boys out there.

They were some brave soldiers.

_How the hell am I supposed to get to New York now? And on time? _

After they let her go, Quinn had tried to get them to schedule her a new flight, but they firmly refused, much to the Paul's liking.

_**Do we even look like some terrorist? This isn't freaking Homeland! Who knew old ladies could be such bitches.**_

Quinn sighed as she pulled out her iPhone from her ratty cargo shorts, turning it on. When it finally came on, Quinn saw that it was half past three. Going through her contacts, she quickly scrolled down until she found the one for her brother's assistant, Tina, and hit the call button. After a few rings, the woman answered.

"Aren't you supposed to be on a plane right now Quinn?" Tina answered as her greeting.

"Well, _hello_ to you too, Tina. It's been a while since we've last spoke. How are you?" Quinn asked her sarcastically, playing with the loose strings that were at the end of her shorts.

"Quinn, what did you do?" Tina asked Quinn with an annoyed sigh.

"What makes you think it was _me_?" Quinn yelled defensively, attracting attention from pedestrians outside the airport.

"Because it always is." she replied mater-of-factly.

"Well it wasn't me this time! It was some old lady on depends! She must've been feeling pretty shitty so she took it out on me." Quinn snickered at her joke.

_**That was pretty impressive Quinn, nice one.**_

_I know, right?_ She gave herself a pat on the back.

Tina sighed once again. How the hell Charlie and her were twins, she'd never know.

"Ok, Quinn. Tell me what happened so I can fix this mess before Charlie finds out." Quinn filled her in on her eventful time at the airport, altering a few details like making the old lady even more bitchy, and the security guards scared of her. She deliberately left out the tazing and ass search. That wasn't important. "Only you Quinn, only you." Tina said to her when Quinn was finally done with her tale, shaking her head.

"I find that offensive. It could have happened to anyone. _I_ just so happened to be that one." Quinn sniffed as she dust of imaginary lint from her shoulder.

"Aw, suck it up." Tina laughed. "Look, seeing as you can't get to New York by air, you'll just have to go by car. I'll have a town car come and pick you up to drive you there."

"But then I'll get there late. And you know how much I hate having other people drive me around." Quinn whined, not really wanting to sit on her tender ass for hours on end while some creepy dude drove her around.

_Freaking Legion grandma look alike_. Quinn grumbled in her head.

"It's either that or the bus –take your pick."

"Fine, Tina. Fine! Call the damn car, but I'll have you know; I don't like this, not one bit. You better tell that driver to not expect a tip either, 'cause I'm not giving one." Quinn stated firmly. The thing she hated more than driving people around, was having others drive her around.

When she was younger, her parents had hired a driver to drive her a Charlie around all the time. One day while driving home from a concert with her friends, her driver decided to be a douche and drive on the vacant streets with no headlights, just for shits and giggles. It was a miracle that they didn't crash into a ditch somewhere, but as soon as the asshole turned the headlights back on, Quinn made his drunk ass pull over and sit in the backseat with a pissed off Puck as she drove them the whole way back home –a year before she had even taken her drivers test.

Ever since then, she drove herself. The only reason she's agreeing to it now was because she knew with how her day was going, she'd probably get lost in the woods somewhere.

_**Then we'd end up on that tv show, **_**I Shouldn't Be Alive –**_**right next to the shark attack victims. **_

_Wait, that would be kind of badass._

"The car should arrive in about thirty minuets or so. _Which means_ stay your ass there!" Tina demanded. "I don't want to file an Amber Alert on a grown ass adult."

"Love you too Tina the Llama." Quinn said with fake sweetness. She had to give it to her though, Charlie's assistant had some balls. If it were anyone else Quinn speaking to her in such a way, she would've kicked their ass UFC style.

People just don't forget five years of fight club.

"Bye Quinn, and don't ever call me that again." Tina hung up, leaving Quinn alone and looking like a bum outside an airport.

_Did that man just drop that dollar or was he giving it to us?_

_**Who cares! It's a free dollar!**_

Thirty minuets and four more dollars later, the town car Tina had called finally showed up. A tan skinned man in a black suite and a drivers hat stepped out of the drivers side, holding a white sign with her name written on it in bold black letters.

_Mannn that dude has crappy handwriting._

_**It's better than ours. **_

_True_.

_**Wait, is that**_…

"Puckerman?" Quinn asked unsurely, her blonde eyebrows raised in question. Hearing his name, Noah Puckerman turned towards the direction in which it came from, only to see some bum blonde with messy hair that kind of looked like….wait.

"Jagger?" Puck asked her.

_Well fuck me and call me Joe._ Quinn thought with her mouth open as she made her way towards an equally shocked Puck.

**...**

Rachel arrived at her home around ten o'clock, exhausted from the long plane ride and her thoughts; Kurt hadn't been a good distraction. The makeup artist had spent the whole time chatting up some handsome man next to him who was going to New York for business. As soon as Rachel saw the man she knew she'd lose her friend; when Kurt sees a hot guy who tickles his gaydar, he was on them like glitter on a Drag Queen.

And while he was giggling away at the mans corny jokes, Rachel had spent the whole flight dreading the moment in which the plane would touch down, not wanting to see the decision her fiancé had made, even though she already knew what the man would choose.

A part of her wanted that fairytale ending.

She'd walk into the house she shared with him, calling out his name only to be greeted by the sight of lit candles and the aroma it gave off. Rose petals would be littered into a trail in which she'd follow to the sounds of Celine Dion's _My Heart Will Go On _until she'd reach her surprise; her future husband, a man who had wanted and needed her.

But she knew it for what it was, a fairytale; a dream that was never going to happen. This was confirmed when she finally walked into her dark house and not a sound was heard.

_Maybe he's asleep. He has been working a lot lately. _After that thought entered her mind, she quickly scolded herself for trying, yet again, to make an excuse as to why he wasn't waiting for her. But she decided to check their bedroom anyway, just in case he was actually there. She picked up her heavy bags and struggled to her and Charlie's shared bedroom.

Nothing. He wasn't there.

"I guess he's chosen." Rachel mumbled to herself as she dropped her bags to the floor before sitting heavily on her bed.

_Was it too much to ask for? Just for him to finally chose me –to finally chose us– for once? Maybe I was asking for too much. Maybe I should give him a… _

Her phone rang. Knocking her out of her dangerous thoughts. It was Kurt.

"So I was thinking instead of watching Pretty Woman, we could watch P.S I love you, instead. I still haven't seen it." Kurt said as soon as Rachel answered her phone.

"I take it that you already know that he isn't here." Rachel said to Kurt, slightly amused, and yet kind of sad that her soon to be ex-fiancé was that predictable when it came to letting her down.

"I didn't want to say anything, but yeah. Me and Mercedes had this planed out before we even left for Pride."

Rachel rolled her eyes at her best friend, and trusted make up artist, even though he couldn't see it. Ever since she introduced Kurt to Charlie, he's been begging her over and over again to break it off with him, but she could never find it within herself to do it.

In the beginning, he had been the perfect gentleman –the kind of guy that she'd always dreamt of when she was just a struggling no name from Queens. He had been tall, handsome, had such pretty eyes and knew how to treat a lady. Sure her standards were low, but that was all she could seem to get at that time, No man had wanted to put up with her then, claiming her to be annoying and high maintenance; and apparently word really did seem to travel fast.

But Charlie seemed to exceed her expectations when they had first started dating...that is, until she had her first big break on Broadway, after that things started to go down hill.

"Fine, just don't eat all the vegan ice cream!" Rachel told Kurt as she headed back to her front door, turned off the lights before heading out the door and into her car to make her way to la casa de Kurt y Mercedes.

**...**

The three divas were sitting on Kurt and Mercede's couch with their trusted sunggies snuggled close to their bodies, and a bowl of vegan ice cream in each hand. Tears were streaming down Rachel and Kurt's face as the movie they had been watching ended. Mercedes rolled her eyes at how pitiful they both looked.

"OMG! That's was just so sad!" Kurt exclaimed as he dramatically blew his nose into a Kleenex.

"I know! It's so beautiful. He knew he was going to die, so he wanted her to know that he'd always love her –obviously from the P.S– but it was also okay for her to move on. So beautiful." Rachel cried, her eyes shining and her hands crossed over her heart. "Do you think Charlie would let me love another person after I break it off. Do you think he'd get a clue then if he saw me with another?" She asked her fellow divas.

Mercedes rolled her eyes as she got off the couch to walk to the kitchen. "Hell naw!"

"Mercedes!" Kurt gasped, hand dramatically placed in front of his mouth in shock as he and Rachel followed her into the kitchen.

"What? The guy is a Dick with a capital D, which deserves the word Huge in front of. Plus, we all know that he doesn't just find talent, but also bangs the talented." Mercedes defended.

"Mercedes!" Kurt yelled, disbelief written on his face. _Lord Jeebus girl, shut your damn mouth!_

"Oh….did we not know this?" She asked Kurt, confused.

Rachel stayed silent.

Kurt let out a frustrated sigh. He would've ran his hand through his hair, but he didn't want to mess it up. Instead, he glared at Mercedes before turning to Rachel who was sitting on a stool that was placed in front of the kitchen's island, once again playing with her engagement ring.

"Well my bad. I thought Rachel knew. I mean, everyone else di-"

"Just shut up! Your not helping at all." Kurt snapped at his roommate. Mercedes held up her hands in defense before backing out of the kitchen.

"Rachel…." Kurt said softly trying to gain the brunette's attention.

Rachel gave Kurt a weak smile. "It's okay, Kurt. I've had my suspicions, and they were just confirmed."

"Yes, but I could have said something." He replied guiltily.

Everyone that came into contact with Charlie knew he was cheating on Rachel just by the way he acted. Yet no one, not even Kurt, had the guts to tell Rachel. She had loved him even though he treated her like shit on a hot day.

_I'm just glad she's leaving the bastard now. He doesn't deserve someone like her._

"It's fine Kurt. You were just trying to protect me from getting hurt. It's not your fault I've been blind for the past three years about his transgressions. Even when I had a feeling, I chose not call him out on them. But you know what? As soon as I see Charlie Fabray, I'm going to march right up to him and give a slap to his face –to add to the scene of course– and then I'm going to say…" Rachel trailed off to build up the moment. During her passionate rant she had climbed on top of the kitchen Island, her face a mask of determination as Kurt watched on in glee.

"What? What are you going to say to the bastard!?" Kurt asked eagerly, a bounce to his feet as he clapped his hands in giddy.

"I'm going to say! I WILL SURVIVE!" Rachel exclaimed, her fist pumped in the air as she started to sing Gloria Gaynor's I Will Survive. Loudly.

Kurt watched on happily as Rachel sang and danced on top of the countertop, knowing that when Rachel sang, everything would get better.

_Thank Gosh, I thought I was going to have to marry the girl just to make her happy. Now I'll be able to hook up with that sexy man from the plane with no regrets._

"Why the fuck is she dancing on the countertop?" Mercedes asked Kurt when she came back into the kitchen to apologize.

_I leave for one second and she's already singing and dancing….on the countertop_.

Kurt just looked at her with a shrug and laughed as be climbed on top of the countertop with Rachel, joining in on the improtu empowering moment.

_It's the sprit of Pride! _Kurt thought with a squeal.

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "I'm going to bed." She said to them, "not like you both heard me." she added, mumbling something about crazy ass bitches all the way to her bedroom.

**...**

Quinn was up front in the passenger seat of the town car, laughing as Puck navigated his way through the dark streets of New York, making their way towards the Upper East Side.

When she had seen Puck standing there in a suite and a driver's hat while holding up a sign, she couldn't help but burst out in laughter at the irony. What were the odds of both of them becoming drivers?

It was just priceless.

"Man Q!" Puck groaned as Quinn continued to laugh hysterically. "I didn't want this damn job, okay? It was either this or jail. You know damn well I'd pick this. I couldn't make it on the inside. No correction; _my ass _wouldn't make it on the inside. I'm too pretty." He said with a wince, all to convinced that his ass would be a moving target of goodyness for the experienced convicts.

Quinn scoffed. "Puck, I've seen your ass. It isn't that special."

He rolled his eyes a little too well for a straight guy to pull off. "Whatever, all I know is that you wouldn't even last a day in jail. Hell, I bet you after two hours, your dick wouldn't even be your dick anymore. It'd be some chick named Beatrice's from cellblock 2D." Puck shot back at Quinn, whose face paled at the thought of her man-in-action being owned by some buff, butch lesbian named Beatrice.

_**Oh **_**MY **_**Gawd! We can **_**never** _**go to jail! Beatrice would smell our meat before we even got a sentence**_. Inner Quinn thought, horrified.

Seeing the expression on Quinn's face, Puck knew he had gotten her back.

"Oh man, bro! You should totally see your fucking face right now." Puck laughed, taking one more quick glance at Quinn before the light turned green. He had missed this. He had missed his best she-bro, Quinn. When Quinn had ran off without a word to anybody but her brother, he was hurt. Why would she just take off without a trace?

It just reminded him of his deadbeat father.

"Where'd you go Quinn?" _Great, now I sound like Fort Minor. _Puck thought with a huff as he continued to drive on.

Quinn let out a long sigh. She had been waiting for that question during the hours spent with the man, knowing it had been on his mind since they had locked eyes again after five years of being apart.

"Here. There. Everywhere." She replied nonchalantly, turning to stare out the window and at the town houses disappearing from her view as the car moved forward, getting closer to her destination.

"Quinn, don't give me that Dr. Seuss shit. I thought we were boys –loyal to each other. I was confused as hell when I asked your brother where you had gone, only for him to tell me he didn't know. But that stupid smirk on his damn face told me otherwise.

"Why would you tell him and not me? I would have been cool then; maybe would've even joined you if you had asked, but no. You just left without one fucking word." Puck said.

They were now parked outside of Rachel and Charlie's home, surrounded by darkness and silence as Puck stared Quinn down, daring her not to answer the questions he'd been asking himself for years.

Quinn sighed as she ran her shaky hand through her hair. "I don't know, Noah. I just needed to get a way."

"We all need to get away sometimes, Quinn. I needed to get away after what ha–" he cleared his throat as he began to get emotional. "Why your brother?" He asked.

"That's just it; he's my brother." Quinn answered.

"And I'm not? I'm a better brother to you than he is himself. Just because we don't share the same blood doesn't mean I don't think of you as my little sister –and on some days– my annoying little brother." Puck stated.

"Your right." Quinn finally said after a few minuets, looking up into his sad brown eyes. "I should have told you where I was going. It wasn't in my intentions to make it seem like I didn't care –because that's far from the truth. It's just….Charlie, you remember what he did." Puck nodded. "I just felt obligated, and he was the only one present at the time when I was able to get the hell out of there. I couldn't take it anymore." she explained.

"I would have helped you, you know. If I was able to." Puck told her softly.

Quinn smiled at him. "I know, Puck."

They sat and talked for another thirty minuets before Quinn got out and Puck left, but not before making plans to hang out and check out the sights.

Quinn walked up to the front steps, her travel bag giving a loud bang with every step she took up the stairs.

By the front door there was a small cactus plant in a red pot that matched the door. Lifting the plant, a key was revealed; she used it to open the front door.

_They really need to hide that someplace else, and a cactus? Really? _

_**It was probably Charlie's idea. You know how obsessed he was with anything cowboys when we were younger**_.

_Haha, weirdo._

Upon entering the house, Quinn was immediately surrounded by darkness. After closing the door behind her with a nice kick, which probably left a foot print, she quickly searched the walls for a light switch, in which she found after tripping over her travel bag. Turning on the lights, she saw that she was standing in the elevated front entrance which opened up into the living room.

Quinn nervously called out through the house, in her best Charlie impersonation, asking if anyone were home. No one answered.

_**Well of course no one answered you dumbass. She's probably waiting to jump our ass with a metal bat! **_

_Or she could just be sleeping. _

_**Or she could be loading her African dart blowgun**_.

Quinn decided to go check the bedroom to see if she was asleep. Going through the kitchen that was behind the living room, she saw a metal staircase that spiraled straight up to the second floor.

When she reached the top, she was greeted with the sight of one huge ass bedroom that took up most of the second floor.

_Wicked_.

Looking around the bedroom she concluded that the Broadway star was nowhere around.

_Huh. Her flight must've gotten delayed. _

_**Or maybe she's waiting for us to go to sleep so she can choke us with our shoe strings. **_

_We're not wearing shoe stings. You know how much they frustrate us. _

_**Oh, yeah. **_

_Oh well. If she isn't here, I'm going to bed_.

Quinn took off her velcroed Vans and socks before taking off her shorts. She then turned off the bedroom lights before making her way to the bed that called out to her and laid down.

_This bed is amazing!_

_**Maybe it's one of those Tempurpedic should test out that wine thing tomorrow. **_

_We should form an hypothesis before testing it, though. You can never be too sure. _

_**Hell no! We're badasses! And badasses don't form hypothesis'. They just do shit then come up with a conclusion; did it, or did it not, kill me. **_

_True_.

Quinn started to feel her eyes go heavy as she began to doze off.

_**Wait! Did we turn off the downstairs lights? **_

_Shit!_

* * *

**Moore Info: you know, as I'm going back and editing this fic I've realized that; not only did it have a shit load of mistakes, but it was a damn good fic. Surprised my own self while re-reading it. **

**Next Chapter: Quinn (as Charlie) and Rachel meet. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Moore Info: sorry for any mistakes. **

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Quinn woke up with a jolt.

Her hair was plastered to her face from sweat, and her breathing was heavy as she franticly tried to remember where she was. As she looked around the unfamiliar room, her memories started to come back to her. Letting out a shaky sigh, Quinn threw herself back onto the bed with a groan, both hands in her hair. It was another bad dream.

This happened occasionally, but almost always when she slept in unfamiliar places. It was a nuisance when she decided to take care of her sexual needs. When she would wake up suddenly in a cold sweat at their place, it tended to cause great concern in her bed partner...that is until Quinn would thoroughly distract them with more important matters.

Quinn decided to go down stairs and make herself some breakfast. She hadn't eaten since her and Puck had stopped at some middle of nowhere diner that served some pretty good food despite how shady it looked. As they ate, Quinn had filled Puck in on her undercover mission. At first, he had laughed his ass off, not believing a word she had said, but after he had stopped laughing and actually saw that she was quite serious, he pointed out a few valid points.

One was that she had a tattoo on the side of her neck. How she forgot about that was beyond her, but Puck solved that problem by mentioning she could cover it up with makeup, so that problem was existentially solved.

Two, was that her hair was much longer than Charlie's. However, they rectified this by going to the nearest barber shop and showed the hair dresser a recent picture of her brother from Instagram. Now her hair was much shorter, but there was still enough on the top for her to slick back in the way Charlie wore his hair.

Three, was easy; Imitating Charlie's voice –which will not be a problem because mocking him while they were younger just to piss him off, was her specialty. She had done it so much that she had gotten crazy good at it too. So good, in fact, that she was able to frequently trick their parents into thinking she was him when ever she'd shout throughout the house or speak with them on the phone.

But the fourth was much more difficult; she knew nothing about Rachel Berry other than the fact that she was her brother's fiancé and a famous Broadway singer.

Therefore, reluctantly, she decided to call in her go to guy during her Fight Club days when she wanted dirt on her next opponent; Jacob Ben Israel. The guy was a creep, but he was good at what he did. He knew things about everything and anyone, and if she knew Jacob, as she was sad to admit, he would know things about one Rachel Berry if she were in some kind if spotlight.

Pulling out her iPhone, that she had taking with her when she came downstairs, she scrolled down to Jacob's name (who was labeled as The Creep), which she sadly still had but knew a time would come where she'd need it again, she hit the call button. It went straight to voicemail.

_He is such a pussy. _Quinn thought with a roll of her eyes. Jacob always needed a little…motivation.

_So, he wants to get us pissed off this early in the damn morning. _

_**It's one o'clock**_.

_As I said, it is early in the damn morning_.

Pulling up a new blank text she typed in: If you don't fucking answer your fucking phone the next time I fucking call you then I'm going to go to your fucking house while your asleep and force feed you fucking pork! Don't fucking make me remind you of that one summer, Benny!

Intimidation is the key to controlling him, plus lots of fucks.

Send.

Thirty seconds later, her phone rang.

"Ah Jacob, it's so nice of you to call me." Quinn said as she searched through their refrigerator, pulling out a to-go box that had Rachel's name on it, and opened it up to look inside.

_What is this shit_! Quinn thought as she looked at the food the resembled green mush, she took a sniff at it.

**Gah! That is rank! Throw it away!**

_Right, we will probably be saving her from food poisoning or something_.

"Quinn Fabray, what a surprise. I heard you were captured by the CIA and trained to become an assassin for our great country." Jacob said to Quinn in his creepy, nasally voice.

"And you and I both know just what I've been up to for the past six years." Quinn said to Jacob as she tried to make some French toast from the weird ingredients she found in the pantries.

Jacob let out a nervous laugh. "Well, when the Fight Clubs greatest fighter runs away before a match, one begins to wonder."

"I didn't run away from the fucking match and you know that, so shut the hell up!" Quinn snapped. "I didn't call you to reminisce. If I did, I would have brought up the good times you me and Puck had when we'd take trips to the laundry mat to do some laundry...remember that, Jacob? Remember how much _fun_ we had washing...clothes?" Quinn asked mockingly.

Jacob gulped loudly. "What can I do for you." he rushed out, wanting to get this conversation over with so he can go back to his perfectly safe life, in which he was never hurt. His Sims would never dare do such a thing or else her trap them in a small room.

Quinn smirked into the phone. "I want you to tell me everything you know about Rachel Berry."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

When Rachel woke up early that morning, she felt refreshed and amazing. Though the couch she had been sleeping on could have been more comfortable, it didn't dwindle her spirit any.

Today was the day that she was to finally be set from the constant depression that Charlie seemed to always place upon her. In addition, all of the constant doubt that would enter her mind on whether or not Charlie loved her, would never again eat away at her self-esteem. As she had sung last night; she will survive, and it will be because she had chosen to finally kick his ass to the curb.

Never would she let another man control her like Charlie did.

"God! I can hear you thinking from all the way over here. It's making me want to go back to bed." Mercedes yawned as her and Kurt sleepily entered the living room that was still messy from last night.

"Yeah Rach, it's too early in the morning for all that thinking. And knowing you, you're most likely thinking of Charlie "The Dick" Fabray. Am I right?" Kurt asked Rachel knowingly.

Rachel rolled her eyes at Kurt before standing up from the couch with a big stretch. "Yes, Kurt. Though you are right about my thinking of Charlie, I was merely thinking about how I will soon be free from the bounds that he has placed upon me. I'll be a free woman the next time I see Charlie Fabray." She happily explained to Kurt, who had taken a seat on the couch's arm, and to Mercedes, who was sitting on the floor half asleep with her back against the couch.

Kurt smiled, liking this new Rachel who was more confident in herself, moreover the old Rachel who would constantly doubt herself. Kurt nodded his head enthusiastically as an idea formed in his head.

"You know what we should do tonight? Seeing as you won't be celebrating your anniversary anymore?" Kurt asked as he jumped off the arm of the couch to stand front and center in the living room, wanting all of the divas full attention.

Just the tone of Kurt's voice caused happiness to rise in Rachel, and for Mercedes to roll her eyes in annoyances. It was still too damn early for her to be all happy sunshine.

"We should all go out to the club and pick up some hot guys!" He thought it was a brilliant idea. For six weeks, Rachel had been even more depressed than ever, worrying constantly on the decision Charlie would make while he was away. Now that it was over, he wanted to go out and drink it up with his girls and hit on hot sexy boys.

Rachel on the other hand, wasn't all that sure about his idea . Sure, she liked to go out to clubs occasionally, but Kurt was most likely expecting her to flirt and dance with any man that offered her a drink. She didn't think she was ready for that, no matter how confident she felt at that current moment.

"Kurt, I don't know about that."

Kurt expertly rolled his eyes. "Rachel, I'm not saying you have to go out and find you future hubby at the club –because that would be the worst place ever to find a husband. All I'm saying is for you to go out with your favorite girls and let lose all that pent up frustration you have –show Charlie that you're fine with moving on." Kurt explained.

A night out with her friends did sound better than staying home alone on the day that would have been her and Charlie's third anniversary. Maybe what she needed was to go out and have some fun before confronting her soon to be ex fiancé. It would kind of be like having a clam before the storm.

"Yeah, okay. Let's do it." Rachel and Kurt gave each other high fives with both of their hands, excited grins spread across their faces...which quickly turned into frowns when a loud, chainsaw like snore broke their celebratory moment.

They both looked over to see a snoring Mercedes passed out on the couch with one arm covered over her eyes, and one leg lazily hanging off the couch, a wet trail of drool coming from out the corner of her mouth.

Shaking his head in disgust, Kurt tuned his attention back to an equally disgusted Rachel. "I'm hungry. Let's get dressed and go out for some breakfast while Sleeping Beauty here elegantly sleeps the day away."

"Won't she be mad that we left without waking her?" Rachel asked Kurt, worried that Mercedes would be mad at her; she always seemed to blame her for everything, even when it was not her fault.

"Rachel, look at the girl; she's dead to the world. If we were to wake her up right now, she would bitch at us for hours and I do not feel like hearing that on this joyful day. Trust me on this one, Rach." Kurt said as he ushered her out of the living room and away from a knocked out Mercedes, and into Kurt's bedroom where he, for some reason, had clothes for Rachel to borrow.

As soon as they left Kurt's apartment, they went to a Vegan friendly diner where they laughed and joked around the whole time they were there, reminiscing of the times when they couldn't stand each other. Well, more like Kurt couldn't stand Rachel.

In the beginning, when they had first met, Kurt didn't like Rachel at all.

Rachel had been an up and coming Broadway star at the time, while Kurt was her make-up artist, jealous of Rachel's fame. When Rachel had happily introduced herself to Kurt, all he did was roll his eyes at her before rudely demanding that she sit down in the chair that was inside her dressing room so he could do her make-up.

This type of attitude from him went on for weeks as Kurt would always throw snide comments her way and talk behind her back.

It wasn't until Kurt had spread rumors about her sleeping her way to fame, did she finally confront him. She was hurt, no one would talk to her because of all the lies he had been spreading. So when she confronted him about it, she had given the man a long lecture about his behavior and how his mother surely had taught him better.

At that, Kurt broke down in tears, spilling everything.

Before Kurt had been a Make-up artist, he had tried to become a Broadway star just as Rachel had become. But because he wasn't manly enough to play the parts he'd audition for, the casting directors would quickly call out a loud 'next' after only a few lines.

And it wasn't like he could play the female parts (though he had tried). If he did get lucky and get casted, it was always as the very minor characters that would have at least two lines (five if he were super lucky) while he'd sway in the background as he watched the manlier lead act out the parts that should have been his.

Rachel reminded him of his failures –what he could have been doing. So naturally, he had taken his anger out on the brunette upon meeting. But thankfully, Rachel, who wholly believed in second chances, happily forgave him, knowing firsthand how bad jealousy could be when she sent her rival to an inactive crack house that _one _time.

After their heart to heart moment, they became fast friends and eventually the best of friends, much to Mercedes dismay. Since then, Kurt has faithfully followed her throughout her career, always there to beautifully apply her make-up and elegantly dress her for special events she'd drag him to when Charlie would, yet again, bail on her.

She was grateful to him. Without him she would have broken down in panic from all the pressure that was occasionally placed upon her by her show's directors, but Kurt was always quick to remind her that she was Rachel Barbra Berry, and that she could accomplish anything she wanted as long as she reached for the stars.

The two best friends spent two hours at the diner before Rachel dropped Kurt off back at his place with a promise to call him later before driving off.

Thirty minutes later, she arrived at her house. Upon entering, she immediately knew something was off.

For one, she could hear someone singing 'Ain't no Mountain High Enough' loudly in her kitchen –which brought her to number two. Her house was filled with the pleasant aroma of what she guessed was Vegan French toast.

Who the hell was in her house?

It couldn't have been Charlie because the man couldn't carry a tune to save his life and couldn't cook anything without burning the house down. So she concluded that there was a singing,and hungry burglar, in her house.

With fear slowly creeping into her heart, she got out her trusted pepper spray –which was faithfully hanging from her key chain– at the ready as she hesitantly crept towards the opening of her kitchen.

There standing in her kitchen and wearing a wrinkled white t-shirt and boxers, was Charlie. She watched on in astonishment as he sang along with the radio, all the while making some tasty looking Vegan French toast.

She couldn't believe it. Not only was he singing surprisingly well and cooking in their kitchen, but he was actually there to be able to do it.

_Maybe he really does care..._

Deciding that she had seen enough, she called out his name, making him jump slightly with a light blush to his cheeks as he finally took notice of Rachel.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked him. He raised a sculpted eyebrow as he continued to work on his late breakfast, still too embarrassed to look at Rachel.

"I believe I'm making French toast." He said with a shrug of his shoulders as he continued to cook.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yes, I can clearly see that. What I meant was, what are you doing _here_? Aren't you supposed to be out talent hunting or something?" She crossed her arms and watched as he placed a stack of French toast on a plate before offering her some, which shocked her yet again; Charlie never offered her anything, let alone anything that was vegan. Rachel declined, stating that she had already eaten with Kurt.

He nodded his head before settling down at the table booth she had bought for their kitchen. She followed him and sat down on the opposite side as he happily took a bite out of his French toast before finally speaking.

"Well, you did say you wanted me here, right? So here I am." Charlie finally said after he swallowed his bite of toast, his arms spread.

Rachel stared at him in silence. Was he really here because she had asked him? Was he finally choosing her? "Why weren't you waiting for me when I got back?"

He shrugged. "Tina gave me the wrong flight time, so by the time I got there I had missed my flight and there wasn't another available one that wasn't full until the next day. I had to drive all the way here. And I couldn't call you because my phone ran out of power, I had forgotten my charger at the hotel I was staying at." He explained as he started on his second French toast.

Rachel looked at him skeptically. She knew Tina; she wasn't the type of person to make mistakes as she always had three different back up plans.

_Maybe she was just having an off day. _

They sat there in silence while Charlie started on his third French toast with a moan. Rachel stared at him, lost in her thoughts.

Ever since she found out it was actually Charlie in their kitchen, she noticed how differently he had been acting, shocking her more than twice in just twenty minutes of entering the house. It was like he was a whole different person. As she continued to stare at Charlie she finally took notice of the black ink that was on the left side of his neck.

_How the hell did I miss that?_

"Charlie? What the hell is that on your neck? Is that a –a tattoo!?" Rachel asked incredulously, pointing dramatically at his neck with her mouth hanging open in shock. Charlie suddenly stopped chewing and quickly covered his tattoo with his right hand, eyes wide in surprise.

"Uh, it's an umm –yes, it's a tattoo. I –I got it while I was away." Charlie stuttered his ears and face a bright red.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "What made you decided to get a tattoo? You said you'd never get one –not seeing the point of it." It was something he always ranted about when Rachel would always think about getting one for herself, and now he was hosting one on his neck in plain sight for every one too see. It was kind of hypocritical of him.

Though, his tattoo really looked like something straight from the illuminati, an organization she swears keeps trying to contact her in order to join. Hopefully Charlie wasn't their agent sent to convert her.

"Uh, yeah, but that was before I was robbed at knifepoint." He said slowly looking off to the right of her head. Rachel gasped, hand over her mouth in shock.

"You were robbed!" Rachel exclaimed, concern painted on her face.

"Yeah, when the guy had the knife to my throat I thought I was going to die right then and there. Thankfully, he ran away with my Rolex and a few hundred dollars, but I was really shaken up over is all, you know?

"It got me thinking about the shitty decisions I've made in my life and how much of a douche I've been to you. So I decided I wasn't going to be that kind of guy anymore." Charlie told Rachel as he nervously tapped his fingers on the table.

_Well that kind of explains how weird he's been acting. _

"And the tattoo?"

"It's the Eye of Hours; an Egyptian symbol of Protection. I got it a few days after it happened. I know its pretty superstitious of me and you probably think it's stupid bu–"

"No. No. Not at all. If it makes you feel better then I don't think it's stupid at all." Rachel said sympathetically. Plus, she was just glad it wasn't some sign that he was a member of the illuminati. She wouldn't know what to do if it turned out that he was.

Charlie gave her a grateful smile before silence claimed the room once again. To her it looked like Charlie was sincere in his words about wanting to do better, but she still wasn't sure and was more than a little hesitant to ask her next question.

"So what do you have planed for our anniversary?" Rachel asked curiously. Charlie, who had gotten up to wash his dish (yet another surprise to Rachel), suddenly froze in his task, quickly hiding the 'oh shit' look that had donned his face.

"Um, I thought I'd make it a surprise, you know? Something different," Charlie said slowly.

Rachel squinted her brown eyes at him. "A surprise? Did you even plan anything? Or are you just saying that because you have no idea what we're going to do?" Rachel asked him suspiciously.

"Of course I've got something planned, Rachel. I'm not just going to pull random shit out of my ass. I told you I'm trying to do better and I mean that." Charlie said with a hurt look on his face.

"I'm sorry. It's just–" Rachel tried apologetically.

"It's fine, Rachel. I've been a shit to you in the past, but I promise you; this new me is going to treat you so much better than the old Charlie." Charlie vowed, an intense look in his eyes. Rachel nearly swooned in her seat.

"Now that we have that settled, why don't you go upstairs and get your self all dolled up while I finish up in here. I'm taking you out tonight woman." Charlie said with a wink, making Rachel blush.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

As soon as Rachel went up stairs, Quinn finally allowed herself to freak the fuck out. She had no fucking idea what the hell she was going to do for Rachel and Charlie's anniversary. She was so unprepared for this shit and it was stressing her out.

_Fuck! Damn Charlie for not warning me about this shit First I had to make some fucking half-assed lie about my tattoo and now we have to take her on a surprise that _we _don't even know about! _

_**Hey, at least we can share the surprise with her. It'll be fun! **_

_Hell, no! _

_**Then stop being a pussy about it and call Charlie. It's his girl after all. **_

_Great idea! _

Quinn grabbed up her phone and called her brother. Unsurprisingly, he didn't answer.

_Fucking douche! _

**_Let's try Tina._**

Quinn tried Tina, who thankfully answered.

"What is it this time Quinn?" Tina said tiredly into the phone.

"Hey, Tina. I know your getting tired of me, but I _really_ need your help with this one." Quinn said franticly.

"What is it this time?" Tina repeated. Quinn explained. "Well just do what Charlie does and take her to a nice restaurant." Tina suggested.

"No, I can't do that! I already promised I'd do something different than that." The blonde whined, her frustrations mounting.

"Well, I don't know Quinn. I'm not an expert when it comes to the art of wooing women, seeing as how I like men, but really, it shouldn't be that hard. Just do stuff that she likes to do, that'll make her happy."

Quinn thought about it before letting out a sigh. "Fine, okay. I'll think of something."

"Good luck, Quinn. If you need me for anything else just call me, okay?" Tina said. Even though Quinn got on her damn nerves, she had grown a soft spot for her.

"Yeah, sure. Later Tina the llama," Quinn said distractedly, thinking about what the hell she was going to do.

"Quinn! I fucking told you not to call me th-" Quinn hung up.

Quinn walked back over to the table booth and slid in, weaving both of her hands through her hair.

_We're fucked_.

_**Totally. Like, porn star fucked**._

Never did she think she'd get in this deep this early.

When she had called up Jacob, he had told her some valuable information (and some creepily private information) and a lot of dirt on Charlie; like the fact that he had been cheating on Rachel ever since they had gotten together.

And as soon as Rachel started grilling her with questions, she had started pulling lies right out of her ass like the love child of Criss Angel and David Blaine could probably do. Thankfully, Rachel was gullible enough for her to do it.

Tina would kill her for saying she made a mistake in her job, but her story about her tattoo at least held _some_ truth to it. Just thinking about the real reason she had gotten it had her thinking about Puck. And that's when an idea formed in her head. Quickly grabbing her phone, she pulled up Puck's name and hit the call button.

"Yo, Jagger! What's up? You done playing hubby yet or what?" Puck asked teasingly when he finally answered his phone.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Actually, Puck. I'm going to need your help on a few things –if your willing, that is." Quinn asked.

"Of course, Jagger. Anything for my bro. What's up?" he asked. Quinn filled him in on her idea. "Oh, yeah. Sure. I can totally hook you up and be there in forty minuets tops."

Quinn let out a sigh of relief, feeling some of the stress leave her body. Hopefully, the shit won't hit the fan with this one. She could really use a break….and maybe a nap too.

* * *

**Moore Info: let me know what you thought. **

**- sorry this took so long. I had to make sure I didn't want to completely change things once finding my flow again for this story. I've mapped out quite a few things already for this fic. Hopefully when the time comes, you'll like them.**

**- follow me at R43Moore for progress reports on all of my fics. **

**Next Chapter: first part of the anniversary. **


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